


Dreams and Miracles

by The_dark_phoenix



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Mike/Harvey, M/M, More tags to be added, Questioned sexuality, medium!Mike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_dark_phoenix/pseuds/The_dark_phoenix
Summary: “Mike Ross. Who is this?”“Harvey Specter.” There is a long pause in which Harvey can hear heavy breathing on the other end of the line.“So you didn’t take the plane. You listened to me.” Mike clears his throat.“Yeah, I did. And then I saw a plane full of people crash on the runway less than a minute after it took off. And I want to know how you knew.”Saving a person's life through his "gift" of predictive dreams is something entirely new to Mike.Owing his life to a miraculous, undetectable power is something entirely new to Harvey.One looks for answers while the other one looks for free food, and things quickly become personal.
Relationships: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Dreams and Miracles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sauffie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauffie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671376) by [Sauffie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauffie/pseuds/Sauffie). 



> This story is a sequel to the one shot "Dreams" by Sauffie, in which Mike is a medium and one night dreams of a plain crash, a red haired woman crying and a coffin with the inscription 'Harvey Specter'. When Mike actually manages to warn - and save - Harvey, he wants to know more about the man he owes his life to.  
> I highly recommend reading it before continuing. 
> 
> Please note that the story "Dreams" as well as the idea of Mike being a medium belong to Sauffie, while the story line and plot of "Dreams and Miracles" belong to me. Neither of us owns any of the characters, obviously. 
> 
> The first few lines (in typewriter font) are the ending of "Dreams" to make it easier to connect both stories.

` “Donna.”, he said, his throat dry. “Did you get the name of the kid that came to me this morning ?”  
“Mike, I think.”  
“Is that all we know about him ?”  
“Yes, why?”  
“He was right.”`

``

* * *

* * *

“Oh my god.” Donna’s voice is less than a whisper.  
“Find out who he is, will you? I need everything you can get your hands on, as quick as possible.  
“Sure thing.” Donna hesitates to end the call, “Are you still going?”  
“Yes, the next one is in two in two hours.”  
She wishes he would stay. She can hear the worry in his voice. “Have a save flight.”  
Harvey’s answer is an affirmative grunt before he puts down the phone.  
Deep breaths, Harvey. Everything’s fine. He will have to call Marcus and tell him he’s gonna be late. 

* * *

It doesn’t take Donna more than an hour to not only find out Mike Ross’s full name, but also his address and phone number.  
It was easy really, she has had crosswords more difficult. The kid was obviously a bike messenger and a quick chat with Rachel revealed that he had asked her where to find Pearson Specter, so he wasn’t working in their district. He is a handsome young man, she was sure he’d be flirting with receptionists, assistants or girls from the mail room and that meant someone would remember him. So in the end it was only a matter of a few calls to different firms all over the city asking if someone could remember a young, blond bike messenger with big, blue puppy eyes. And of cause they did remember him. 

When Harvey lands in Boston and starts his phone back up there are already three texts from Donna containing all the information he asked for along with an other ‘stay save and have a nice week end’ and a pink heart emoji. He smiles and answers her with a quick ‘You too. Give my love to your parents’ and a winking smiley face.  
It’s an inside joke between them, when ever necessary they pretend to be each others girl/boyfriend in order to avoid family as well as public discourse. For Donna it mostly saves her from the scorn of her parents, who just don’t understand that their daughter of nearly 40 years just doesn’t shows any interest in sharing her life with someone else. For him on the other hand...

* * *

“Mike Ross. Who is this?” The voice sounds sceptic.  
“Harvey Specter.” He tries to put a lot of weight into the sound of his name and it seems to take effect. There is a long pause in which Harvey can hear heavy breathing on the other end of the line.  
“So you didn’t take the plane. You listened to me.” The voice gets squeaky and the young man, Mike, clears his throat.  
“Yeah, I did. And then I saw a plane full of people crash on the runway less than a minute after it took off. And I want to know how you knew.”  
“How did you get my number?”  
“The traditional way. Without mystical powers.” It’s meant as a tease, but as he speaks he knows it will come out wrong, especially to someone who doesn’t know him. The young man on the other end sniffs.  
“If you just want to mock me, there is no reason to call again.” he tells Harvey crankily and Harvey senses that he wants to end the call.  
“No, wait. I wanted to thank you”, he pauses to take a much needed deep breath, “to thank you for saving my life.”  
Another pause, then a muffled “You’re welcome.”  
“I would also like to treat you to dinner, as a thank you.”  
“I’m good.” The voice is still muffled and sounds ragged, Harvey suspects the kid is fighting back tears. He will have to get somewhat more direct if he wants to land him.  
“Very good, that’s settled then.” he announces in a cheery business tone. “Next week on Friday, 8 pm. I’ll text you the details. See you then.”  
“Hey, wait! What th...” the young man starts to protest but Harvey simply ends the call and slips his phone back in his pocket before finally leaving the airport and meet his brother outside, where Marcus has been waiting for him the last fifteen minutes.

* * *

At first Mike tried to stay away, he really did. Of cause he is happy that he could have saved the mans life, but on the other hand that implies that every dream, every catastrophe he has seen in his sleep could have been avoided. He has always felt guilty about not helping, even though he knew he was not responsible and there was no way to stop the events he has seen.  
His grammy always told him he had a gift and as hard as it might be to bare, there would come a time that he would be glad to posses it. He often wondered if that was true. 

But now his ‘gift’ has saved a mans life and he should be happy about it. And what’s wrong about accepting a dinner invitation, anyway? It’s a thank you, he tells himself, no ulterior motives. There is nothing to worry about. But the truth is that Mike does worry.  
Harvey Specter.  
He texted Mike yesterday evening, hours after their conversation with the name of an high class restaurant and the question if Mike rather be picked up at home or meet him there. He left it on read.  
How did this guy even get all the information about him? Creep.

In return, it only takes a few google searches to gather all the facts about Harvey Specter, a top of the tops lawyer, name partner at his own firm and, as more than one article calls him, the best closer in the city. A handsome man, hands down, with his obviously expensive suits, perfectly styled hair and smug face. Yet there is something that deeply unsettles Mike. He can’t pinpoint what it is about Harvey, there is not one piece of bad press, nothing that could stain his perfect reputation, but he intimidates Mike. Not only in the ‘normal’ way, like he did back at the office, there is an other feeling that Mike can’t quite place. 

The beeping of his phone interrupts his thoughts, it’s a text from Harvey.  
‘So?’  
‘I can’t. I have a thing on Friday.’  
‘Then Saturday it is.’ Damn Harvey. He wants to put the phone back in his pocket when it beeps again.  
‘Come on, Mike. Don’t make me beg for it.’  
‘Would you? Beg, I mean.’ He smiles, somehow the thought of this man begging to take him out for dinner strikes a nerve. It’s absurd. It’s weird.  
‘I won’t even answer that. Saturday, 8 pm. Be there or don’t, your call.’  
His head can overthink this all he wants, his stomach tells him that this is an invitation to one of the best restaurants in the city, something he will probably never be able to afford on his own, and it would be stupid to refuse.  
‘Sorry. I’ll be there.’ he types and after a second, ‘Thank you.’

* * *

Finally! Harvey heaves a sigh and puts down his phone. That kid has nerves, if he would have resisted any longer it would have gotten seriously awkward. There is only a certain amount of times you can ask someone before it becomes begging, no matter the words used.  
But what now? Should he answer again or rather leave it at that? God, personal conversation are so much harder than business talk, where everything has a protocol, whether it’s written or not.  
‘No. Thank _you_.’ he types after a minute. ‘See you on Saturday.’ hoping that it sounds enough like the end of a conversation to shut Mike up.

* * *

The air is stuffy and the room is nearly dark, only the faint red glow of a setting sun creeps in through the ceiling-high windows. He can see a figure sitting on a sofa in the middle of the big room, slumped back against the backrest and arms stretched out to both sides. It’s a middle aged man, not tall but well build. His hair is dark and shimmers a silky red where the sun touches it, he is holding an empty glass.  
Mike can not see his face but he suspects it’s rather a trick of his mind than of the missing light.  
The whole scene looks real, sounds real, feels real, but he has learned to notice the signs that tell him it’s another one of his dreams. The background that just doesn’t exist until the moment he looks at it and the hyper focus that always lays over the part he is supposed to look at. It looks like an overly contrasted picture, too much focus, too much saturation.  
The sun fully sets and in the new darkness there are now movements of a second person, who Mike can barely make out. The shadow against the window and the way it moves tells Mike it is a man as well. He lazily walks over to the couch and settles in the lab of the other man.  
They talk a few words but the sound is muffled and Mike neither recognises their voices nor their words.  
Then they kiss, deep and hungry. It feels wrong to watch, because even if it is only a dream to him, he knows it is something that really happens - or will happen - to someone, somewhere.  
His dream makes it impossible for him to leave, so in an attempt to escape Mike closes his eyes.  
All of a sudden it feels like he is right there between them. He can hear their ragged breathing and tiny moans escaping the battling lips. He can smell the strong mix of sweat, expensive cologne and old scotch. He can feel excitement, drunkenness, ... _fear._

* * *

Mike awakes with a hammering heartbeat and it takes him a few seconds to find his way back to the real world. His vision dreams have a habit of doing that to him, yet this one was different, again. There was no disaster, nothing bad apart from the lingering sense of fear he had felt in one of the men.  
Maybe it wasn’t this kind of dream, maybe it was the normal kind, the kind where your subconscious tries to tell you something.  
Well, there is that one question, the one he never quite dared to address, about his sexuality. It is a very personal topic and a complicated one, he doesn’t like to think about it and is not close enough with any of his friends that it feels appropriate to discuss.  
He has had sex. He has had dates, some of which eventually leading to relationships and, well, sex. Each of them was with a woman, but he has had crushes on men as well, or at least he thinks he did. He just never acted on them. What does that make him? Bi-? Pan-? -Romantic or -sexual? Even thinking about all the possibilities makes him anxious, so he usually chooses not to think about it at all. 

Instead, he takes a look at his alarm clock, there are still a few hours left before he has to get up for his Saturday shift at the public library. It’s a horribly paid job, but he can still use the money and when there isn’t much to do he might even get the chance to read for a bit.  
He should get back to sleep, he wants to be rested when he meets with Harvey tonight.

* * *

The Arcadia is truly one of the best restaurants in Manhattan, maybe the whole city, and getting a table is usually a thing of weeks if not month. But Harvey, being the man he is, knows everyone and has favours to collect all around the high society of New York. So for him getting a table at the Arcadia is a thing of a phone call and changing the reservation from Friday to Saturday is no trouble at all. 

When he enters the Arcadia at 8.15 pm he is not late because of unforeseen circumstances but simply out of habit. He finds Mike sitting at the bar with a cocktail and when he asks the young man why he didn’t already let himself be shown to the table, he just receives a shrug. 

Mike is very quiet until Harvey has ordered champagne for both of them and scotch for himself, which Mike acknowledges with a smile remembering last nights dream.  
When the champagne arrives he toasts to Mike. “To the man, to whom I owe my life.”  
Mike smiles but he looks so incredible awkward that Harvey instantly regrets his words.  
“Sorry. What I actually wanted to say was thank you.”

* * *

Mike looks down on his empty plate. He can feel the blush raising in his cheeks and he hopes the dimmed light in the restaurant can hide it to some extent. He doesn’t know how what to say. The noble atmosphere in the restaurant, all the obviously rich and important people make him anxious. Harvey might fit in here like an egg in the nest, but he feels out of place. And now the way Harvey looks at him, his head slightly tilted, on eyebrow raised, a questioning look in his eyes.  
“Usually people say ‘you’re welcome’.”  
Mike’s gaze slips down again. “I already did. And I said I didn’t want you to take me out.” That probably came out meaner than it was meant to be, but Harvey doesn’t seem to mind.  


“I know. But the truth is that the plane I was supposed to be in crashed right before my eyes and you knew it hours before. I want to understand how.”  
Mike heaves a deep sigh. He has never told anyone about his “powers”, not even Trevor. His Granny was the only one who knew and even she didn’t really believe him, so why should he suddenly tell his biggest secret to this total stranger? The answer is there in Harvey’s plea, because he already did and because it saved said strangers life.

“I already told you I’m a medium.” He begins slowly. “Since I was a kid I have dreams that show me horrible situations, accidents, murders and such. These dreams are predictions of things that really happen shortly after, at some point I started writing them down and research whatever information I could draw from the dream and they have all become reality.” He has to stop and take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay.  
“The dreams never give me any information on who those people are, where they are or when it happens. Nothing I could use to stop these things from happening.”  


Now the tears are filling up his eyes and he stops again to take a big gulp of his champagne. For a moment he closes his eyes and focuses only on the sensation of the alcohol running down his throat, a trick he has adapted to steady himself and regain concentration.  
“But my dream of you was different.” He opens his eyes again and looks directly at Harvey, who seems taken aback by the sudden confrontation. “I saw a plane crash and then your secretary crying over a coffin which had your name and dates of birth and death on it. It was the first time ever I got the chance to change what I saw.” He smiles slightly, when Harvey nods approvingly.  
“And you never told anyone?” Mike shakes his head. “Don’t you think you could help people with your predictions? Maybe by making them public...” Harvey continues but Mike shakes his head again, more forceful this time.  
“The dreams are usually very vague. ‘Blond woman in a red sports car dies in a car crash on a highway at night’ will not help anyone. Besides, people never think it’s about them, even if the description would be more detailed, and who would even listen to an anonymous person on the internet predicting disasters they dreamed about?”

A waiter places two plates in front of them and Mike hungrily digs into his doubtlessly expensive steak.  
“Well, it wouldn’t have to be anonymous.” Harvey carefully picks up an olive with his fork. Mike snorts.  
“Yeah right. I’ll put my name on it so everyone who knows me in real life can avoid me and the crazy internet people know where I live.”  
Harvey chuckles. “Yeah, maybe that idea wasn’t thought through.”  
“Aren’t you supposed to be careful with what you say? As a lawyer I mean.” Now Mike is grinning wide. Harvey didn’t laugh about him, a thing he had secretly still thought possible, but instead just took his visions at face value and even suggested to publicise them. So he actually believes him. That is more than he had ever hoped for from the man who threatened to have him thrown out of his office on their first meeting.  
Harvey laughs. It’s the same honest laughter Mike has heard for the first time in Harvey’s office, when the man was laughing at him. Now that it is directed at his joke, Mike finds rather pleasant, warm and rolling and likeable.

* * *

After the ice is broken once, they keep talking and joking during the entirety of the meal. Later Harvey pays and they move on to a less formal bar for drinks.  
Mike, already pretty tipsy, tries to convince Harvey to dance but the older man refuses and instead watches him from the side lines, a drink in hand and a smirk on his face. 

He likes that kid, Mike is clever and funny and full of energy. They could become great friends.  
They could be more than friends, a part of his mind insists, because Mike is not only nice and friendly, he is cute. He has a good body, a handsome face and gorgeous blue eyes. He... No.  
Harvey pushes the thought away. He has made the decision long ago, for his career and against private fulfilment.  
Even though the times have changed since he first started out at the DA’s office, and Donna told him so repeatedly, he can’t risk it.  
Donna is the only person that knows he is gay. The only one he confided in back in College, when he had his first crush on Adrian Keeler from the football team and had to come to terms with his sexuality in the face of his traditional upbringing and a school full of jocks and teen age bullies.  
Back then, in the 90s, it was unthinkable to be an successful and openly gay lawyer. And Harvey had already made the choice to become the most successful lawyer in the city, so he made another choice, to dismiss his sexuality in favour of his career. 

Of cause times are different now, he thinks as he put his empty glass down on the bar, takes two new ones and strolls over to the dance floor where Mike is still going strong. The rhythmic bass floods trough his entire body and he can’t help to move a little with the music.  
He came out to his family years ago and they respect him - he suspects his brother played quite a big role in that - and Donna doesn’t get tired of dropping comments about famous gay celebrities or attorneys that come out big time.  
But that is not how he wants to be seen. People know him as ‘the best closer in the city’, if they knew what they don’t know, he would probably be ‘the best _gay_ lawyer in town’ and that would imply that his sexuality stands in some correlation to how well he is doing his job, which, in his eyes, is unacceptable. 

Despite her general mocking of Harvey’s situation, Donna has not only sworn to protect his secret with her life for ever and always, she also managed to drop just enough vague remarks here and there to led people to believe that her and Harvey might have had a one night stand once. Maybe. Maybe not. 

Mike catches his gaze and grins, motioning to Harvey to come and dance with him. Harvey shakes his head and instead holds up both glasses for Mike to see. The young man nods enthusiastic and starts making his way through the crowd.  
And there is something else, Harvey thinks, if his secret ever got out or worse, if there ever was a man at his side, it would make him vulnerable. His big advantage over everyone else is that he always sees the facts and never gets attached. Everyone in the city knows that Harvey Specter doesn’t care about anyone apart from himself and his firm. He has lost only a handful of cases but he is not afraid to drop clients and ditch associates when they don’t live up to his expectations. Having a personal life, a _gay_ personal life, would not only make him fair game for the yellow press but for his opponents just as well.  
Mike suddenly appears in front of him and it takes Harvey an moment to find his way back to the hammering music and the young man.  
No, a personal life is something he can not afford.

* * *

It has become pretty late and both men are more than a little drunk when they stagger out of the bar and Harvey stops a cab. Mike climbs in the back seat and only subconsciously realises when Harvey gives the driver his address. For a moment he wonders again, where Harvey knows it from, but then the other man speaks to him and Mike has to focus to understand the words.  
“You look tired. I’ll drop you off first.” there is a soft smile on Harvey’s face that makes him look a lot different from the straight forward lawyer Mike met a week ago.  
“You look tired too, but still good.” Oh god Mike, for the love of god stop babbling. “I mean, you ‘ave a nice face, err... you know? Good eyes and... umm... lips, yeah I like you’ lips.” He can hear himself slur, that is not a good sign. “No homo though, I mean err... I, no you...”, he notices Harvey tensing up and falls silent. Shit. Well done Mikey, that’s a new record for ruing an evening in the worst way possible. “Sorry.” he mumbles, falling back in his corner on the back seat, as far away from Harvey as possible.  
He has had crushes on men before, this is definitely one of them, but he probably never managed to blow his chances with anyone of any gender so quickly.  
They don’t talk any more until the cab stops in front of Mikes building and he turns to Harvey again to say good bye with what he hopes is an apologetic smile. Harvey nods but it looks like he hasn’t heard a thing Mike just said and the mans eyes are so cold that a shiver runs down his spine.


End file.
